Clock face

I was miles away thinking about something yesterday,
Something I'm doing more each day, all the time.
Is it a message? Is it a sign? Is it the time to draw a line?
How do I know? But it doesn't feel natural. Feels too slow.

If I don't know then who else will?
It's getting to the point it makes me ill
And I don't know if I can turn a page.
It feels so wrong, the pressure's on.
I can't ignore it any longer,
I turn my clock to face against the wall.
Please be a phase that's all.

Only my expectant eyes looking for diamonds in the skies.
The only one looking for this prize.
White in a see of black, I'm going to go and I won't come back.

I spike myself, I kick and scream.
I drag my feet, I won't come clean,
I dead my weight and fall upon the page.
It feels so wrong the pressure's on.
I can't ignore it any longer,
I turn my clock to face against the wall.
Please be a phase that's all.

I drag my feet, I dead my weight,
I turn my clock to face against the wall.

If I don't hear then I'll assume,
That everybody's singing the same old tune,
I dig my heals, I will not learn the words.
It feels so wrong the pressure's on.
I can't ignore it any longer.
I turn my clock to face against the wall.
Please be a phase that's all.